You Can Let Go Now
by The Butterfly Mistress
Summary: Based off of the song "You Can Let Go Now, Daddy". Rogue's perspective of asking Logan to "let her go".


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the song the story is based off of. I hope you enjoy!

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**You Can Let Go Now, Daddy**

I can smell the smoke from his cigar as I quietly make my way over to him. I know he knows that I'm here. He could probably hear me before he could smell me. I know he knows that it's me because he doesn't tense as I near him; he just continues to sit quietly, puffing at that dang cigar, waiting for me to speak first no doubt.

I wonder if he knows why I am here. He most likely does, he's always known everything it seems.

I'm standing right behind him now, maybe a foot of space between us; I still don't speak though, instead I watch the red and orange leaves fall from the slowly balding trees.

We are at my favorite place of the mansion grounds, the magnificent fountain, with it's crystal blue water flowing over its different sized bowls, down into the largest one at the bottom; so serene and lovely. This specific area holds so many memories for me, some sad, others bad, mostly good ones though. I used to read every day after school, on the side of this very watery monument, the shade from the large oak tree cascading down upon me. The soothing sound of the water would ease my mind and relax my soul. It would frustrate me to no end at how delicate everyone would treat me after the defeat of Apocalypse, but he never did.

I remember the time he asked me to be his daughter. It was soon after the battle, Irene had died shortly thereafter and Mississippi State had wanted to place me in an asylum instead of trying to put me in another foster home…they figured no one would want a mutant freak like myself. They were going to come get me right before my eighteenth birthday, that way they could still do it lawfully and not have to deal with me as long. Everyone was frantic, trying to find a way to stop the appalling event from happening, especially Kurt. I remember I was sitting on the stairs, Kitty on one side and my brother on the other. The house was full of its normal chaos, and he walked right up to me, papers in hand, and calmly asked, "Would you let me take care of you?" Of course, this burly man before me had been taking care of me ever since I came to this large abode we call home. My eyes had filled with tears as I smiled happily and leapt into his ever-waiting arms, repeating yes, over and over again. It had been the greatest day of my life, but now I was ready to have another.

I know he is well aware that I can take care of myself and that he thinks I deserve so much better; I know that he won't stop me though either, but I can't go through with it if I don't have his blessings, it just wouldn't be right. Which brings me back to right now.

I'm still standing quietly behind him, his cigar now fully smoked, he's just sitting there patiently, waiting for me to get the nerve to speak; I stay where I am as I begin my request, staring directly at the back of his head.

"I need you again, Logan," I say, my voice sounds foreign to me as I get out the words I need to say.

I know he can't refuse me now; he cares for me too much.

He stays in place, not moving an inch, almost as if he hadn't heard, but I know he did.

His gruff voice graces my ears as I hear his expected response, "Anything, darlin'."

I come around to face him; he stretches out his hand for me to place my own in to. He grasps my fingers through his, and his piercing brown eyes come up to gaze into my own emerald green; I can tell he knows what I am wanting, he always sees right through me. With a rare tenderness, he pulls me down beside him, our fingers still clasped as we stare straight ahead in a comfortable silence.

It's almost like years have passed by before I break the peace, but in reality only a few minutes have passed. "I want you to give me away," I say, with more confidence than I feel.

"I know," he replies.

More silence passes.

"Will you?" I ask, hesitantly.

I start to rise, going to leave, devastated when I receive no reply, thinking I had crossed the line by asking such a request, but his hand refuses to release mine. He gently pulls me back to my seat, and turns to where he can look me in the eyes.

"I don't want to," he says. He must feel me stiffen because he hastens to finish, though sadly. "But, I will."

Once again I can feel tears threaten to spill over my lids as I lean into him for a fatherly embrace.

He gets up from our quiet spot on the fountain and pulls me to my feet. We don't speak a word as we make our way, across the yard to the other side of the mansion. We can hear music and people chattering as we near the commotion.

The Canadian looks handsome in his black tuxedo and I tell him so, he just grunts a reply.

My arm looped through his, I can feel his muscles tense through the soft, thin fabric as he guides me to the aisle between the few rows of chairs. We stop when we make it to the beginning and he gently pulls my veil over my face and then he begins to guide me down the aisle when the music begins to play.

I am nervous but I hold steady, I know I am fine as long as he is with me. I look up and see my love's smiling face, looking adoringly at me; Kurt, as my fiancé's best man along with Piotr Rasputin and Scott Summers as his groomsmen all looking handsome and grinning madly at me. I can't help but smile back. I look towards where I'll be standing shortly and see my best friend and maid of honor, Kitty, dressed in a soft blue dress, beaming as she watches. As well as, Wanda and Jean as my bridesmaids, dressed similar to the Valley girl, also beaming with joy at me. Jean and Scott's little girl, Rebecca is my flower girl, she is standing shyly in front of her mother; their son, Ethan, is the ring boy, he is standing proudly beside his father. Both look absolutely precious.

I come out of my muse when I realize Logan has slowed us down, coming to a stop at the altar.

"Who gives this woman?" the preacher asks.

This man, that I've come to know as a father, tightens his grip on my hand, I look over and see his eyes glassy with tears, whether they are with pain or joy, I'm not sure. Everyone is looking expectantly towards us.

I lean up, my face within inches of his ear, and whisper, "You can let go now, daddy. You can let go. I think I'm ready to do this on my own. It's still a little bit scary, but I want you to know, I'll be ok now, daddy. You can let go."

Those words I uttered made the strongest man I know shed a tear.

He nods stiffly and passes me onto my soon to be husband, letting out a strained, 'I do'.

I hear him quietly add, "Her father." I don't think anyone else heard, but I believe that is what was intended, just a quiet moment between father and daughter.

I am standing beside him now. He is pale, paler than me even, and that scares me. I wrap my smooth fingers around his calloused hand, his skin is lukewarm, and he is completely still, so unlike the Logan I know. A thin, white sheet covers his gown-clad body from the waste down, if I didn't see the rise and fall of his chest, I wouldn't believe he was alive. But he is indeed alive, not living, but alive. That fact makes me happier than it should. I shouldn't be happy; it's my fault he is here in the first place. A little voice inside my head says that that is not true, that it was his choice, but as usual, I squash it down.

My baby wanted so bad to come and see his grandpa, but I refuse to let him see this strong man so frail. It would terrify the boy…it terrifies me! Well, frail is a lie, he is still strong; he's hanging on by a thread. Mr. McCoy says he's hanging on for me. I don't know what to think of that. Am I selfish for making him hang onto a life he can no longer live? I wonder if he knows that I love him, and that I am so thankful to have had him in my life. My mind soon wonders back to the reason we are in this position at all.

It had all happened so fast. Bombs went off, powers soared the air, the enemy still stood strong while we dropped like flies. Sentinels, they were built stronger that round, some were even immune to certain mutant abilities. We were all sent off in different directions, our personal preferences didn't matter. Taking down the bad guys while protecting the innocent bystanders was our focus, our job, and we had to do it. At least, that was what was supposed to be.

I lost my balance taking care of a family that had gotten in the crossfire as they tried to escape the chaos. I went down hard. I hit my head, on cement? Rock? Possibly on some metal debris, who knows…I certainly can't remember.

I could feel the blood pooled around me, it hurt so bad. I was going to try and get up to continue helping, but I couldn't feel my limbs. Slowly, the only thing I became aware of was the immense pain I was in. My eyes were open; I saw everything that was happening above me, I heard it too, but my brain wouldn't transmit what was going on…I was so confused.

I registered his voice though, telling me to hold on that he was coming. I registered his cry of rage as he took down a sentinel about to trample me and I certainly registered his anxious face when he came to hover above me.

I knew his touch, when his warm hand met my cold cheek. But that was all I felt… I was too far-gone for him to save me that way and I knew it. My eyes flew to his to give him a loving, grateful gaze before I had felt them flutter closed.

He tapped my face, to get me to open my eyes and I had miserably obliged. He looked down upon me worriedly and I looked to the side to avoid his eyes. My fading emerald orbs however, met my anxious husbands stare. My only regret at the time was that I wouldn't get to see my son one last time.

I didn't think there was any hope left, he couldn't save me this time, but I was wrong.

I felt a hand go into mine, and another hand, his hand, go to my chest, where my uniform had been partially ripped. Warm skin met cold, and that was it… I closed my lids again, hoping for my final few minutes to be peaceful, but my mind made me watch my life over the years like a movie. I caught glimpses of my psyches previous lives too. Not all pleasant. I had just wanted to sleep. Just as I was drifting, I felt a pull. My heart had started to pound, pumping blood through my weak body and I started to see his memories, his life flash before my eyes. It was slow, but I could feel my body start to mend. I could breathe easier, I could think a little clearer, and I wasn't in agony anymore, I was just sore.

I opened my eyes, but I didn't see his face and my husband's features were not in relief but in horror. I had though I was dreaming at the time. His hand was still touched to my newly warmed skin. I was killing him! My other half pried his appendage off and rolled my father's limp body over. I got up, through the protesting of my spouse, and crawled over to his seemingly lifeless body. I think I yelled for my husband to go and get help through my heavy tears, but I can't say for certain. All I know is that I heard hesitant steps leading away from him and me.

I willed him to live, for his power to hurry up and save him. It was a struggle but I managed to call on my brother's psyche to allow me to teleport him and myself to the mansion. Apparently my partner in life and love succeeded in getting help, because Beast was awaiting my arrival. He quickly took him from me and led me to the med bay. He hooked the gruff man before me, up to machines and tested different things first and then once Dr. McCoy was sure he was stable, he checked me over, deemed me healthy but in need of a good sleep and shower.

I've only left him for a little while in the past week, just enough to appease my husband with eating and bathing, and to see my little boy. I've slept down here, on the bed next to his, I don't sleep a lot, just enough so I'm not falling over, so I can stay alert.

Personally, if it was I lying in that bed, I wouldn't want to be kept alive like this, I know he doesn't either. I know he wouldn't want me to spend my life sitting here watching and waiting…but I don't want to say goodbye. I feel a tear slip down my cheek, another and another. One right after the other until I am fully crying; I don't bother to wipe them away, now is not the time for pride. I don't want to, but I have to let him go, just like he did me.

I crawl up onto the side of the bed, careful not to jostle him. I watch as my hot, salty tears fall from my cheeks to his. I curl into his side, sniffling as I do; I wrap my arm around his chest and lay my head near his. I turn my head to the side and breathe in his scent of Canadian pines and cigar smoke. Releasing my breath I choke back a sob as I whisper, "You can let go now, daddy. You can let go. I think I'm ready to do this on my own. It's still a little bit scary, but I want you to know, I'll be ok now, daddy. You can let go."

I sob into his chest, but I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. His heart machine starts to flat line and I know he's happier now. Beast and few others pop into the room at the sudden noise. Dr. McCoy scurries around to see if there is anything he can do, but he knows just as well as I do, it's too late. He's gone. Kitty is sobbing into Kurt, Scott and Jean hold their crying little ones in reverent silence and my husband stands quietly in the corner, holding my tearful little one.

I get up off the bed and let my face hover above his. I place a soft kiss on his forehead and whisper one last time. "I love you, daddy, and I was proud to be your daughter." No one else heard, just as it was meant; just a quiet moment between father and daughter.

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I hope you enjoyed!


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